Lights Will Guide You Home
by reginassthief
Summary: Au. A peak into two different family lives: one happy, the other a crumbling mess. They meet through Marian, and a friendship forms (as best it can with Regina's trust issues) while she keeps what goes on at home a secret from everyone. Outlaw Queen. Regal Believer. Maiden Queen friendship. tw; domestic abuse, child abuse, martial rape (currently implied)
1. Chapter One

**AN: This is actually based on a** **prompt** **I wrote yesterday and I really liked the universe I set it in so naturally I had to expand it due to no requests to do so at all. The themes of** _ **domestic abuse**_ **,** _ **child abuse**_ **and probably** _ **marital rape**_ **will run throughout this fic so if that isn't your thing ignore this. Yeah, I clearly love creating a million aus that require them to become multi chapters for myself. I hope you likey**

Quietly, she opens the door, careful not to let too much light in as she enters. She knows he's not asleep. No way would he be asleep with all the noise. But with the way he's huddled beneath the covers, silent like he's not there, she can kid herself that he is asleep and that the reason he's hiding isn't because he's scared, the reason he's quiet isn't because he wants to make himself unknown. He's just asleep, something simple and innocent.

She tiptoes across his room. His tidy room, nothing out of place, everything packed into tubs and pushed away into the corner, out of sight almost, like it's not touched. Like it's not played with.

Pulling the covers back, she gently climbs into his bed. It's a tiny thing, just about fits Henry, let alone the both of them; Regina balancing near the edge. They manage, though, once Henry rolls over. He's practically lying on her and Regina shifts into the space he's left behind.

He nuzzles into her chest, a tiny sob escaping before he's clamping down on the next, tensing, trying desperately not to let another one go.

It hurts.

It hurts more than the bruises, the ragged hair, the split lip.

It hurts that he feels like he can't cry, not even in front of her. Only her. He won't cry because Leo told him _Men don't cry._

Because, according to Leo, men hit. Men rage. Men shout and have tantrums. They scream when things don't go their way. Don't go the only way they know.

Leo's no man.

How she wishes Henry would cry.

It's for selfish reasons, she knows. She doesn't want Henry to cry. No mother wants to see their child cry for any reason yet when he doesn't, she feels so helpless. Tight inside. That her helpless is eventually going to squeeze and squeeze, tighten and tighten until it can't anymore, until it pops.

And starts all over again.

She won't sleep tonight.

Henry will. It takes some time but he always falls asleep. He'll sleep because he knows so long as Regina is holding him, nothing can hurt him. That she'll put herself in the way for as long as possible, for as long as it takes for him to get away.

That's what she did tonight.

It was paint.

Paint that was accidentally spilled on the carpet, staining the expensive, white carpet.

They tried their best to clean it up; Henry and Mary Margaret. They tried but they didn't try enough.

Leo made it home first.

Leo sent his daughter home.

Leo made the first move when he saw the stain.

She needs to check his arm. Needs to make sure the marks, cuts, bruises, whatever awaits her behind his sleeve, isn't visible, isn't there.

If they're not visible, nobody will know what happened. What _happens_. That's what Leo wants.

Regina's a different story.

"Is he gone?" It's quiet, his voice. So quiet that it's barely even a whisper. He's terrified of speaking. _He's_ made him terrified of speaking.

How did she let this happen?

"He's gone, baby."

And thank god, too. Thank god she's in here and not in _there_. It's always worse in there.

"Is he coming back?"

He asks this every time and every time it's the same answer. Yes, he's coming back. He'll be there when they get home tomorrow, waiting for them. Only he'll be all smiles, all laughter, apologise for the night before.

Regina used to fall for it, as stupid as she was then. Each night, even on the very nights it happened, she'd tell herself that he didn't mean it or that it was her fault, she did it, she started it.

She's not as stupid anymore. Not so easy to blame herself. Oh no, she'll blame him. Won't say it to his face, will probably never say it to his face, that's too risky, too risky for Henry.

Tomorrow will be another insincere apology. Another sweep under the rug. And the cycle will begin again. Something; she, Henry, anything will set him off and it'll begin again.

But tonight she'll hold Henry close to her, breathe in the scent of his hair. He needs a bath, fingers treading through it. She'll give him one tomorrow when Leo isn't here and he can't make passing-yet-completely-devastating comment about how _He's six now, he should be bathing himself alone._

Then they'll watch a film or something. Disney or Pixar or something that's fun and friendly and will take his (and hopefully her) mind off everything that happened. She'll change the sheets and they'll both snuggle into her bed, their minds taken elsewhere.

She occupies herself with thoughts of tomorrow, happier memories they'll create with just the two of them. That's how it should have been; the two of them. Tucked away in some tiny, messy apartment watching films all day, happy in a house that they can call home every day. She should never have let Mother fill her brain with lies of how degrading it is to be a single parent, how selfish you're being to your child. She should have done it anyway, ran when she had that chance.

She should never have let herself be manipulated into marrying Leopold.


	2. Chapter Two

**So I finally updated this and it's long. At least compared to the last chapter. If you likely, tell me what you thinky.**

The door shuts with a slam.

A bit too much force that has him cringing, especially considering his son is sleeping in the front door, feet away.

He rubs a hand over his face, through his hair, still leaning against the front door, recalling the day's events.

His son is six. Six years old. It seems each year that passes he gets older more quickly, each birthday coming faster and faster.

There's a pang of sadness when he thinks of his son getting older, that one day the parties will stop and he'll have no need for his parents anymore.

But those years are miles off so there's no point in worrying about it.

He pushes himself away from the door, heading back to the front room to where Roland is curled up on the couch, tucked away with the fairies as he dreams, Marian beside him, brushing a hand through his curls. They were almost like a family today.

It was Roland's request to invite Marian. He'd asked him weeks ago, voice shy, _Can Mummy come?_ Robin knew he didn't need to ask Marian, Marian would insist she was coming, there was no doubt about that. But Robin had promised Roland he'd ask her anyway and the boy had smiled, gave him one last hug, and allowed Robin to tuck him in.

Today had been good. Today had went well. It was almost like nothing had changed.

"I should probably get him home," Marian says, taking her hand from Roland's hair and moving to shift him.

Robin frowns, looking towards the boy who's perfectly content where he is. Marian shouldn't move him, it'll just wake him up and leave him grumpy for the rest of the night.

"Let him stay where he is," Robin says, halting Marian's movements. "It'll only wake him."

"That's not in our agreement, Robin." she says, a hardness to her voice. Gone is the soft spoken words from earlier today.

Robin huffs lightly, curses Marian and her obsession with sticking to agreements and schedules and plans. It had killed her allowing Roland to stay last night. When they were together, they had a little birthday eve tradition of watching films and allowing Roland to open _one_ of his presents early. It was something taken from Marian's childhood and something Robin had done last night. It didn't feel right, though, doing a tradition without the person who introduced them to it but it was something Roland had known since he was old enough to know anything and so Robin had kept it up, Roland none the wiser.

He knows there's no point in fighting. No point in ruining a perfectly good day so he lets her have her way. Picking Roland up so gently as possible. The boy shifts, he's too big to be carried now, so he sits awkwardly over Marian's arms, eyes blinking half open. Robin just hopes he goes to sleep when he gets in.

He follows them all the way to Marian's car, opening the front door and the car door, settling Roland into the car seat (he rests his head against the side, closing his eyes in an effort to fall back asleep.

Robin shuts the door, gives the roof a few quick taps to say everything's done and Marian drives off, making her way back down the street.

Robin sighs, glancing towards his house and thinking of the mess he still has to clean up. It'll be quiet tonight, no child to look after now as he begins counting down the days until Roland's next visit, hoping their arrangements will be better in a few months.

.:.:.:.:.:.

 _Her fingers fumble with the table cloth, wrapping around it then unwapping, repeating. She should stop, Mother will glance over, find her fidgeting yet this table cloth is her clutch, a way to let the anxiety escape little by little. If she just sits there, it'll build up inside her, stop her from eating. Or she'll have to take tiny bites, she can't not eat, they'll notice, she doesn't want to eat tiny little bites so she carries on fidgeting with the cloth._

 _She glances around, eyes scanning for Daniel in the sea of waiters and patrons. Jumps from each table to the next, each server to the next and nothing. Maybe he's in the kitchen, maybe he'll come out later._

 _Regina turns back her family; Father with his eyes closed, Mother fussing about something or other and her sister, balancing a whiney Ellie on her knee as she tuts and shhs, trying to calm the child down._

 _It's simple, she doesn't want to be here. Neither does Regina._

 _But Regina has to be here, she's the reason this whole dinner is happening after all and they're just waiting for one more person._

 _A happy little voice bubbles beside her, rambling nonsense and Regina smiles; turning to her right to find Henry sitting in his car seat on the floor, a little hand whacking a stuffed zebra, making it swing back and forth and he babbles happily._

 _It sends a relief through her to know Henry spends most of his time in a happy state now. He spent his first month just crying; crying through the day, through the night, waking up Ellie and making her cry also. Nobody in the house could get any sleep. When he cried around Mother, Regina remembers the anxiety that would pulse through her, make her want to throw up, the fear that Mother would go as far as anything to shut a child up scared her. She never asked her mother to babysit Henry, she wouldn't anyway (she'd take Ellie, though, willingly ask for Ellie, actually and Regina couldn't help but feel envious at that. Is that how it would always be? Mother choosing Ellie over Henry, just as she chose Zelena over her? Regina had hoped she'd never find out) for the fear that harm could come to him while Regina was away._

 _Now it's a lot more relaxing. Now it's Ellie who mostly fusses and Henry sits away in the corner, surrounded by his second-best thing; his toys._

 _She guides her hand towards Henry as his own little hands wraps around her finger, squeezing it a few times before gripping it and bringing it to his mouth and sucking._

Someone's hungry _, she thinks, feeling the heaviness of milk in her breasts. She looks around, not moving his finger from Henry's grasp. She knows full well she can't feed him here, no matter how natural breast feeding is, she'll still get the scandelous looks, the daggers from Mother. So she sighs, taking her hand away from Henry as he begins to whimper a little, signs of a wail coming, something Regina doesn't want right now._

 _"I need to go use the bathroom," Regina cuts in. Both Mother and the waiter she was talking to look at her, a frown appearing across Mother's face._

 _"Why?" she asks, sounding almost suspicion and Regina can only think why ("I need to use the bathroom" is usually her excuse to get away and Mother does not want her running off on a day like today, as if Regina would really dream of it)_

 _"I need to feed Henry," Regina says, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "He's hungry and I can't feed him here."_

 _Mother hums her agreement. "Fine. But I want you straight back. No dawdling."_

 _Regina mutters a_ Yes, Mother _, as she stands from her seat and leans down to pick up Henry, placing the bar of the car seat across her arm. It would've been easier if she'd had his stroller with her._

 _Still, she makes do, making her way through the people in the direction of where the bathrooms are._

 _She shuts the door with her back, leaning against it and thank god it's empty, now she's finally allowed to breath, allowed to let the day sink in._

 _She places Henry on the sink counter, unbuckling him and pulling him out. The moment she places him near her chest he begins rooting. It's not long before he's latched on and Regina can finally feel the relief of her milk emptying._

 _She leans against the counter, cradling Henry in her arms as she stares down at him, his eyes closing as he sucks. He'll be asleep soon, something Henry values a lot and Regina mourns the distraction it will give her through the day, that she could just look down and, for even just a second, immerse herself in the world of Henry._

 _She'd also hoped Daniel would be here to distract her, even if she just looked his way when he was serving. He didn't even have to look at her back, just anything to help her get through today._

 _An engagement dinner._ Her _engagement dinner. That's why she's been a ball of anxiety all day. That's why she's been looking for a distraction._

 _She feels Henry release her, falling slack against her like dead weight and Regina fixes herself up, placing Henry back into his car seat and strapping him in. It doesn't look the comfiest been to be asleep in but she'd left his stroller at home and no way would Zelena let her use Ellie's even though Ellie can walk and is technically getting too big for stroller's now._

 _Still, give Zelena the option to push her child is something for wait around for her child to catch up, she'd go with the first option._

 _She does as Mother says. Doesn't dawdle, doesn't even go searching for Daniel near the kitchens, just leaves the bathroom and heads straight back to the table._

 _Mother's stopped fussing it seems and Ellie's stopped whining, now settled in a highchair now with her own food out in front of her. As she approaches the table she notices two new people sitting there, one beside her chair, the other another side and her heart sinks. This is it. This is where the dinner begins._

 _"Regina." Mother says once she notices her. "You took your time."_

 _"Henry was hungrier than usual." It's ridiculous, she wasn't that long._

 _"Well, you're back now so you might as well sit down and we can all eat before we starve to death."_

 _Regina rolls her eyes, careful to do so when her back is turned and she's away from Mother's viewing. She places Henry gently back on the ground as she sits, pushing her own food which she really doesn't want to eat right now, towards her._

 _"Regina?" comes Mother's voice again and Regina takes a breath, her mood suddenly turned sour by the person beside her. "Aren't you going to say hello?"_

 _She paints the smile on her face; the smile that tells the world that she is fine and nothing is bothering her and turns to the person beside her, offering them a simple, robotic_ Hello _and that's all._

 _She doesn't stay looking his way to gauge his reaction, she doesn't care for his reaction. She should care, he's to be her husband after all and perhaps they should start up some kind of conversation but the only conversation she wants to have his about the girl on the other side of her, one with pale skin and black hair, one she's never seen before._

 _"Regina, this is Mary Margaret," Mother says, as if reading her mind. "Leopold's daughter."_

 _Regina frowns, turning back to Leopold. "You have a daughter?"_

 _He slips a little on his drink, placing down on the table and coughing slightly as Regina awaits his answer._

 _"Yes. My first marriage. Snow's mother died when she was very young. Now she's looking for a new mother."_

 _Regina insists the urge to scoff. Turning back to her mother and eyeing her across the table. Regina knew Leopold was old enough to be her father, knew that he and Mother somewhat new of each other but the fact that he has a daughter, has been married once before, and is now looking to her to play Mother to his child, she had a right to know all that._

 _Mother's words come back into her head;_ Being a single mother is incredibly shameful. For your child to grow up healthy and loved, it means two parents, sweetheart. One can only do so much after all.

 _That was the only reason she agreed to this marriage. For Henry. So Henry could have a life like all the other children his age._

 _Of course, he'd have that also if Mother just allowed Regina to marry Henry's actual father who's currently nowhere to be seen much to Regina's disappointment, but that wasn't in the cards, apparently. A waiter at the club she's visited since she was born isn't good enough in Cora's eyes but a man who's 30 years older than her with a child of his own apparently is._

 _Regina turns away, pushing her food around on her plate, no longer having an appetite._

 _This shouldn't be happening, she thinks. She looks towards Mary Margaret who is currently laughing over something Ellie just did. She shouldn't have to mother a child that isn't hers, just got a child of her own, a sweet little boy who doesn't need all this._

 _Why didn't she just run when she had the chance?_

Why didn't she run when she had the chance? The opportunity was there, Daniel even telling her so. Yet Regina had glanced up towards the house, look one look at the estate she'd grew up in, thought about her father and even of Ellie- the only two people (apart from Daniel and yet-to-be-born Henry) that she loved. She couldn't leave them. So she kept putting it off. And putting it off. And putting it off. Putting it off until it was too late to do anything, Mother found out about her pregnancy, about Daniel who she was so hell-bent on getting fired from his job and set engaging Regina to someone she'd yet to meet and only heard about. It had been too late to do anything by that point.

It's her biggest regret. She could deal with the regret if it was just her, but Henry...Henry shouldn't have to go through it. No child should have to go through it. He's supposed to be healthy and happy, that's what Mother said, that's what got Regina agreeing to this marriage, Henry being safe.

Henry isn't safe. Not here. Not with him.

It's not the first time she's thought of leaving. Of packing bags for her and Henry and taking him away from here. But then where would she go? She's got no friends, or at least no friends who'll put her up with Henry. She can't go back home, Mother wouldn't believe the stories, accuse Regina of being dramatic. Besides, she's not leaving a place where Henry and herself is physically abused to live in a place where they'll both be emotionally abused- she couldn't live with that. Taking him out of one dangerous place and placing him in another, no.

Yet because of those reasons, it looks like they're not going anywhere.

She sits on the side of the bathtub, watching as Henry plays with a rubber duck and brushes a hair through his still wet hair.

"I'm sorry, Henry." she says, fighting down that lump that forms in her throat.

Henry stops playing with the duck, frowning and looking up at her, his brown eyes wide as he says, "It's not your fault, Mommy."

She smiles, it's sad and she knows it doesn't quite reach her eyes. Henry's forgiven her when will she forgive herself? Probably never. Never until the two of them are out of this house and far away as possible.

"Come on," she says, swallowing that lump and hopping off the tub. "Let's get you dry."

They do as she decided last night. Settle into her bed with a film; Star Wars Henry chooses but he's asleep before the second act is happening, slouched against her side with his mouth wide open.

There's the sound of a key scraping a lock and Regina breathes out. They're alone time is over, it seems as the door is opened and then slammed shut. The noise runs through her, shakes the whole house and Regina just hopes to god that Henry doesn't wake and Leo is in a good mood today.

She switches the TV off, slowly shuffling away from Henry as she lowers his head onto the pillow, tucking him into the sheets as he rolls over, getting comfortable and she runs her thumb across her temple, kissing his forehead. She'll move him later, she thinks, climbing off the bed.

Apprehension swirls through her as she makes her way down the stairs, unsure of what mood Leo waits her in. She pushes open the door to the front room and Finds Leo sitting on the edge of the couch, a glass of Whiskey beside him and papers spewed out on the coffee table.

This is what she hates. The tip-toeing around Leo's mood swings. The fear to speak, the fear not to speak. It doesn't matter what she does; she's too loud, too quiet, it annoys him. It doesn't matter.

"Is Henry asleep?"

He doesn't look up at her, just stares at the papers, moving some out of the way and checking over others.

"Yeah," Regina answers, her voice quiet. "He went down about an hour ago."

Leo sighs, taking a swig of his glass and placing it back down.

"A shame," he says. "I wanted to talk to him."

"About?"

She's beginning to tread a fine line here. Conversations isn't exactly what she and Leo are known for. Too much conversation results in Leo getting annoyed, frustrated and angry. Then they bounce off each other, a line of insults here and there. She doesn't back down, will never back down, doesn't know how and well, everyone knows what happens next.

"Yesterday. With the paint."

Her answer's quick. "He's over it. Don't worry about it."

Leo hums, settling that conversation.

Regina's speaking again, however, a few moments later. A curious question of, "Where's Snow?"

"At her aunt's."

"She spends a lot of time there now."

The girl is barely home anymore. Will come back to look after Henry if nobody else is available to do it, but other than that, she's either at Avery's house or sleeping at Ruby's. Though Regina doesn't blame her, Snow's fourteen, probably knows what goes on between her father, stepmother and stepson, probably doesn't want to be around it. Regina doesn't want to be around it.

"Any reason you're asking after her?"

She insists the urge to sigh. Motherly concern? Fourteen years old and not home when it's pitch black outside, she'd been concerned if it was Henry. Though it seems Leopold doesn't share that notion.

"I was hoping to ask her to look after Henry tomorrow afternoon. I'll be home late."

"Why?" Regina doesn't miss the suspicion in his voice, she'd heard it from Cora after all, those times she told her mother she was going somewhere, the suspicion that she wasn't being truthful. Regina knows the signs though that doesn't mean she takes note of them all, especially during the first year of her marriage.

"I have a job," Regina says. "A job that sometimes requires me to work later than usual."

"I see." he nods. "I'll do it. Snow has studies to do, exams to work towards. She doesn't have time to look after six year olds."

Regina pauses, panic gripping at her. "You don't have to do that." And Leo frowns, looking towards her then.

"Why? You don't think I can be trusted with my own son?"

She bites back the words. The words of, _He isn't_ your _son. He's mine. Mine and Daniel's._ Instead she opts for, "I just thought you'd be busy, that's all."

Leo laughs. "Nonsense. It'll be good. A little man to man bonding."

Regina lets out her own nervous chuckle. She doesn't want Henry to be alone with him, not without Snow present. She can imagine Henry wouldn't want to be alone with him. She'll have to talk to him tomorrow, on the way to school when they're out of Leo's earshot. Give him the list of rules; what to do, what not to do. God, when did it become so difficult to leave your son in your husband's care?

 _When you find out said husband is abusing said child._

Her hand clenches into the material of the second couch, allowing the anger to sweep through her briefly before she releases the fabric and breathes out, counting to ten, just as her therapist used to tell her to.

"I'm sorry."

She looks up to find Leo looking at her, a guilty look across her face and oh, Regina knows what this is. Remembers how much she took his apologies to heart, believing each word of them. Not anymore.

"It's fine," she says, distant.

"It was a long day yesterday."

Regina shrugs, not believing his excuses, not believing his apologies. It'll happen all again tomorrow anyway. Henry will do something to piss him off and Regina will get the brunt of it. If he's home in time.

"Well," she says, feeling the awkwardness settle over them. "I'm gonna go..." she begins backing away from the couch, blindly finding the handle on the door. "To bed."

"Right," Leo says. He looks as though he's about to say something else but stops himself, turning back to the pages displayed in front of him.

There's no goodnight. No kiss or follow up the stairs like she imagined when she was younger. Like she imagined it would be with Daniel. They don't work like that. They don't operate like that. Instead it's awkward and tip-toey.

The moment she shuts the front room door, she releases a breath as worry nips at her. She'll be leaving Henry alone with Leo for however long and nobody will be there to stop him becoming nasty.

She pushes herself away from the door and heads back up the stairs. What is she doing? How did she let it get like this? Everything is like a mine field, one wrong step and everything can blow up in their faces, burning everything down, and Henry's usually the one to make the wrong step.

When she enters her room, she has half a mind just to leave Henry where he is but she knows that isn't possible. So with a sigh, she walks to the other side of the bed, pushing back the covers and picking him up.

She mourns the times when he wasn't so heavy, when she could just pick him up and carry him with one arm practically. Now there's a lot of heaving, and a hope she doesn't drop him, though thankfully, it's only a short walk to his bedroom.

She places him down in his bed, tucking him back in and he's away, away dreaming of a nicer time, in a nicer world, she hopes.

With one last kiss and a whispered, _Goodnight, Henry_ she's leaving his room, closing the door and encasing him in total darkness.


End file.
